


Cylons Anonymous

by leiascully



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Community: fluff_friday, Crack, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-06
Updated: 2009-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm Sam, and I'm a Cylon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cylons Anonymous

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-4.10 AU  
> 
> 
>   
>   
>   
>  **Entry tags:** |   
> [fic: 2009](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/tag/fic:+2009), [fic: battlestar galactica](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/tag/fic:+battlestar+galactica), [ship: gen](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/tag/ship:+gen)  
>   
> ---|---  
>   
> _**Fic: Cylons Anonymous (_Battlestar Galactica_, gen, G)**_  
> _Cylons Anonymous_  
> Author: [](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/profile)[**leiascully**](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/)  
> Summary: "I'm Sam, and I'm a Cylon."  
> Timeline: post-S4 (no spoilers past 4.10)  
> Pairing: gen  
> Rating: G  
> Wordcount: 971  
> Concrit: Welcome  
> A/N: This comes from me telling [**dashakay**](http://dashakay.livejournal.com/) that I had a dream about a support group for Cylons who were coming out. Happy [**fluff_friday**](http://community.livejournal.com/fluff_friday/)! Happy BSG day! It's a little bit AU and a little bit cracky.  
> Disclaimer: _Battlestar Galactica_ and all related characters belong to Ronald Moore, NBC Universal, Sci-Fi Channel, and Sky One. No infringement is intended and no profit is made from this.

Sam stood up a little uneasily, clapping his hands together. "Uh, well, I'm Sam, and I'm a Cylon."

"Hi, Sam," the chorus of eerily similar voices back came.

"I've known I wasn't human for about ninety days, I guess. I, uh, first learned I was a Cylon when I started hearing this music," Sam said, gesturing at his ears. "I didn't know where it was coming from, but I heard it everywhere. Even where there weren't radios. It was like a ringing in my ears that just wouldn't stop. And it told me to do things. I mean, not really, it was just lyrics, but I kept ending up in places I wasn't trying to be, following the music. And then, I, uh, I just knew, I guess. When the others were there. We all just kinda...knew." He looked down at his hands.

"Thank you, Sam," said the priestess. "Who's next?"

"I'm a Six," said one of them, who had darker hair than most, and wore a red jacket.

"Hi, Six."

She looked up at the lights, eerily beautiful. "I have always known. I woke up in a bath. My sisters held me."

The crowd murmured in their circle of chairs.

"I'm a Sharon," said the next person. "I woke up in a bath, in a dark room with red lights. I remembered dying in the wreckage of a building that had been destroyed. My sisters touched my hair. My brothers brought me a towel."

"I'm a Four," said one of the Simons. "There was a light, and a viscous fluid. A Doral cleaned me up. One of the Threes held my head. I dressed and went to work on a farm. Though I've never died, I had the knowledge of my brothers."

"This is frakking useless," Tigh muttered. Caprica Six squeezed his hand.

"Colonel, please," admonished the priestess.

"No, he's right," Tory said. "We're Cylons. We're not children who need to play nice with others. We're not flawed."

"The Quorum has assigned you all to therapy before the Cylon Rights Act can be passed," the priestess said. "You know this, Tory."

"It's ridiculous and degrading," Tory snapped. "I ought to have the right not to be condescended to."

"And bored to death," Tigh said.

"Amen, brother," said one of the Cavils. "If we'd known this was going to be one of the terms of our surrender, we would never have agreed to the alliance."

"The Quorum believes that you can be productive members of society," the priestess said stubbornly. "But your past actions indicate a need for counseling and anger management."

"You mean that time we destroyed your worlds," the talkative Cavil said, leaning forward.

"That wasn't all of us," Tyrol said.

"It won't happen again," the Cavil said smoothly. "The issues which we had with the humans have been resolved to our satisfaction. We've realized the error of our ways. There's no anger to manage. Anger was a flaw in our logic, and we've overcome our problems. Call it growing pains."

"Plus we took your nukes," Tigh muttered.

"For whatever reasons," a Doral piped up, "it's not the direction we're heading. Co-existence and integration are the major goals. This discussion isn't necessary."

"The Quorum," began the priestess, with a slightly desperate look on her face.

"I thought the point was that we were being accepted as individuals, not as some Cylon hive mind with a single agenda," Tory said, crossing her arms. "This whole thing is an exercise in futility."

"Talking about when we realized we were Cylons won't help," Athena pointed out. "What makes me different from Boomer or any other Sharon isn't my origin, but my experience since. Even the Sharons who downloaded my last upload aren't me." A couple of the Eights blushed.

"I mean, the Four don't even seem to be programmed," Sam said. "I haven't experienced anything like Boomer did. Also, you know, we've already been pardoned, so is there any way I could just go? I'm gonna be late for the CAP."

"You all need this opportunity to talk through the changes that are happening," the priestess said. "Please, everyone."

"Whatever we are, we're not children," D'Anna said, rolling her eyes. "I for one would be obliged if you'd stop treating us that way. And I am in fact only one. With the Hub gone, I'm just like any human. Mortal. Singular. After a fashion, my colleagues are too. So let's stop playing this ridiculous game of blaming each other for destroying each other's races and get to the bit where we're all one big happy dysfunctional family, yeah?"

"You all have to sign this contract," the priestess said, grasping for authority. "You have to complete the hours."

"Tell you what," D'Anna said conspiratorally. "If it's all right with my brothers and sisters here, we'll skip the hours and just sign the thing, have ourselves a little mixer, and no one's the wiser." She laid a finger alongside her nose and winked. "Sounds good?"

"We promise not to fight you any more than you fight amongst yourselves," the Cavil said. "That's all that you can humanly expect, isn't it?"

"The point of the therapy is to eliminate your desire for any conflict," the priestess said.

"Might as well give it to the rest of the fleet," Tyrol said dryly.

"Only fair," Tory said, still looking angry.

"Look, some of us do have other responsibilities," Sam said, checking his watch. "Let's just vote."

"That's not how this works," the priestess protested.

"Aye," said Tigh. "Well, the ayes have it."

"Aye," said Tory.

"Aye," said Sam and Tyrol together, the rest of the room chiming in.

"You might as well just pass that around," the Cavil said gently to the priestess. "Good session."

The priestess opened her mouth, closed it, and shrugged. "Welcome to society."


End file.
